


The Morning After

by qwerty



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Arthur is a horrendous cook, Comment Fic, Crack, Fluff, M/M, but Percival loves his fluffy hair, offences against philately
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-01
Updated: 2012-08-01
Packaged: 2017-11-11 05:17:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/474922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qwerty/pseuds/qwerty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Percival did not have any fun the night before. And the morning after is even less fun. Life isn't fair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Morning After

Turkey bacon is an insult to all baconkind, Percy thought muzzily as he pushed the dried jerky-like strips about his plate, feeling sick to his toes. He didn't want to be up. After the night he'd had, he deserved to have a good lie-in, or at least, he should not have to face fake food. Not even the sight of Arthur's fluffy head and chest hair peeping out from Percy's favourite pyjamas made up for this.

"Feel any better?" Arthur was asking hopefully, shoveling a hard-fried egg and a wobbly-looking yellow (tofu?) burger off a crusty looking skillet onto Percy's plate. He plopped down beside Percy and grinned, evincing no sign at all that he might have been falling down drunk last night. Percy had only been mildly tipsy, and he felt like fermented roadkill. Percy felt even more ill-used. Forget the sight of Arthur's fluffy head, if Arthur stripped naked right now and sat on his cock, it couldn't be worth this.

"You threw up on my stamp collection," Percy said, feeling hollow and cold inside. "My Mum left it to me when she died." Arthur looked terribly apologetic. "And you don't even have a hangover. And you eat horrible food. How can someone be so amazing and so wrong?"

Arthur shifted, leaned closer, and the angle of the light falling on him lit up his blue eyes and shining golden hair. Percy's dry mouth went drier. "You think I'm amazing?" Arthur asked, looking up at him wonderingly.

"And wrong," Percy insisted, grabbing for the glass of red juice and taking a huge gulp. He spat it out immediately and wished he could die. "What was that?!"

Arthur frowned at the glass. "Tomato juice, tabasco and raw egg. Supposed to be a hangover cure. I saw it on the internet once.

Percy put his head on the table and began to sniffle. "You are evil and fluffy and stand against all that is good and tasty. I knew you were too good to be true."

"You really think I'm too good to be true?" Arthur looked even more radiant and appealing.

"I wish I never met you," Percy whimpered, but he could feel his conviction crumbling even as Arthur stroked his short buzz cut. It felt like his scalp had nerves that went straight to his cock, bypassing the part of him that said he was sick and dying and should throw Arthur out before Arthur murdered him by just existing. "I should not be so turned on by being petted like a dog!"

Arthur kept stroking him. "Look, I'm sorry, let's just throw all this out. I asked Lance to help me pick up something for breakfast. I should have known better than to trust someone who's never had more than a beer in his life. Let's get out of here and get some real pancakes and bacon."

Percy felt his spirits lift up as though dragged by a hundred heart-shaped helium balloons. "All this isn't your choice?" he asked hopefully. "Oh, and you still need to get my stamp collection clean," he thought to add. He couldn't possibly let Arthur think he was that easy.

"I've already called in specialist cleaners to work on it," Arthur promised blithely, and just like that, Percy knew he was beyond hope.


End file.
